A whole bunch of you were in my dream last night, but here’s the thing:
Grant Lee Buffalo was going to play a concert at my house. However, so many of you delayed them for so long by talking to them, asking them questions, and generally distracting them when they were trying to set up their gear that they didn’t have time to play the show. They ended up leaving before I even had a chance to say hi to them.
You’re so not invited to the next dream concert that my subconscious creates. And given the nature of dreams, it probably would have been a good one too… like Paul McCartney with a backing band comprised entirely of dinosaurs, or Abe Lincoln fronting Motorhead, or The Ramones playing on the set of “Gilligan’s Island” or something.
I swear. The manners of some people.